


An Inch of Time is an Inch of Gold (一寸光阴一寸金)

by kaulayau



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, An Attempt to Give Cho Chang Depth and Character, Asian Character(s), Cho Chang marries Harry Potter, F/F, F/M, Family Fluff, Gen, M/M, Not Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Compliant, Slow Burn, Teen Angst, a bunch of mixed Chinese and Korean culture yo, and magical Asia in general too that'll be awesome, because magical Chinatown would be super lit, let’s Get That diversity Bread in the Harry Potter universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-15 21:54:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18081602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaulayau/pseuds/kaulayau
Summary: “I wish that I hadn’t been sorted into Ravenclaw,” Ma said, at some point. “Well, not really. I just wish there wasn’t much fuss over Housing. I’m glad I met friends that thought the way I did, and competition’s good for you.“But since I was a Ravenclaw… was that all I was? Wise and quick? Did that mean I wasn’t loyal, or ambitious, or brave? Did that mean I could never be anything but what a hat told me I was going to be? What about your dad? He’s wise, and he’s loyal, and he’s ambitious, and he’s brave.” Albus kept quiet. “Wo bie ren shi.I don’t know. We changed a lot when we went to Hogwarts.” And she brushed his hair back. “You will, too.”边(Cheung-hwa “Cho” Chang marries Harry Potter, and their children carry a legacy does not speak.)





	An Inch of Time is an Inch of Gold (一寸光阴一寸金)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to all my fellow Asian peeps out there djdjskjskskskaks cool
> 
> Let me know if my translations are off! 
> 
> The title of the story is from the Chinese proverb, “An inch of time is an inch of gold, but an inch of time cannot be purchased for an inch of gold.” (一寸光阴一寸金，寸金难买寸光阴).) 
> 
> And the title of the chapter is from the Korean saying, “Starting is the half [of the journey].”
> 
> Thank you so, so much for reading bros

When Albus wakes up, Ma’s there. She’s kneeling — sitting, maybe — at the side of his bed. It’s as if she were draped onto his covers, or as if she were a shield of human flesh and blood. Ma is warm, and that’s bloody weird. (Bodies are _supposed_ to be warm.) (What in bloody hell.) Yeah — she used to do that when the three of them kids were babies. She’d sleep on the floor, in their rooms, because she wanted to keep them safe from _yan,_ and Death, and all their invisible, dark-coated family. Or so he is told. 

(The stories he’s heard are rather sad if he thought about it for too long. Ma’s parents had died when she was fifteen. And until she grew old enough to live alone, she was tossed to and fro by her grandparents. She doesn’t like seeing people hurt. So why does she work at St. Mungo’s? If Albus could ask, he would. He is never told anything straightforwardly. He knows everything there is about one half of his family, more or less — but not the other.)

Because Albus has the poorest memory there is on this _planet._  To him, details are always fuzzy, and his mind’s gone all to pot. (He blames it completely on James and Lily. They’re always pestering him about everything, saying things that no one else but a sibling would seem or care to know, and at this point of his life, Albus has no need for a brain.) If he’s being told what to do, he’s as good as lost. Instructions refuse to stick in his mind, and he’s a cock-up at directions. “Remember this!” a teacher — a friend — a parent might say. Albus will not remember. He will never, ever remember.

And still... he can return so clearly to a time when he was small. Ma held him in her lap, her chin on the peak his head. He thinks he was playing with a toy of some sort. He knows for sure that she was smiling, and that she tapped his nose with her index finger, again and again and again.

“ _Ni hen ke ai,”_ she said.Her chin was pointy, and she perched it on the top of his head. “ _Wo ai ni,_ Albie. _Wo ai ni.”_

But this probably never happened. And _I love you_ is probably the only Mandarin Albus can say. (He won’t get bloody started on Korean. He can barely even say, “Hello.”)

Well, otherwise — he had a dream last night. (Or maybe that dream was just now.) There was one, long strand of gold in front of him, like the noodles he’d get on his birthday. He followed it, but there was a woman waiting for him at the midpoint. A tiger, ghostlike, trailed behind her. She said something, and suddenly it was raining. “I don’t know what that is, Auntie,” he told her. And he thought he was melting, and then the dream was eaten up by the back of his mind.

And then... and then...

He’s so tired. 

Ma stirs.

Albus pretends that he’s still asleep. Eventually, it’ll be true.

* * *

He wakes up a second time. And now his dad’s in his room, at the doorpost, saying, “Wake up, Albus.”

His dad. Albus knows bloody everything there is about him. (And doesn’t the entire world? Knowledge of the typical is not a special thing. For Albus, that has always been a point of isolation. Why choose the British side of him? Everyone has chosen the British side of him. James and Lily have chosen it, too. They bask in all the secondhand attention. And so ends Albus’s consideration of that.)

There is an uncomfortable atmosphere that he knows they will both ignore. 

It is allegedly eight twenty-eight. Albus is set to leave.

* * *

For breakfast, he has rice and eggs.

(Maybe he should practice Korean and Mandarin more. Besides, his siblings are perfectly fluent in both — though Lily is more akin to Korean, and James likes the Mandarin swears much better — so he’ll have teachers. Teachers of a sort. He used to attend Chinese school on Sundays, but he never caught on like his brother and sister. Albus’s non-English vocabulary is mostly limited to insulting the strangers James and Lily poke fun at. He’ll be able to participate to a somewhat fuller extent. They’ll teach him all the proper Asian spells, too. James and Lily study those together — they’re unbelievably strange. But even so, Albus has to admit that calligraphy is impressive, and the wind-water spells will polish up his room in minutes. Sitting in with his brother and sister might be worth something. (Could it be that they’re getting more stories than him?) Sitting in with _Ma_ might be worth something, too. 

But is it? Learning from shambles and fragments is difficult. He just wants to try something more. He just wants to try _something_. He’d hate to stay the way he is. At this point, it’s impossible for Albus to be the best. So being better would do.)

“Albie,” says his brother, “ _qu_   _ni_ _de_ _tou_ _yu_ _ni_   _de_ _pi_   _gu_.” And then James grins and smacks him on the arm.

* * *

“Are you certain that you packed everything?” asks Ma. And Albus is certain. “Vitamins? Quills? Parchment? They’ll have parchment at school. We can send you more nice quills if you run out. Do you have the candy from Halmi? I hope you didn’t eat it all yet. It’s good to share, you know — make friends.” Isn’t there a candy trolley? (James says the candy trolley is shite.)

“Yeah, Ma,” says Albus, feeling high-pitched.

Ma crosses her arms. “And James —”

“Have I ever been unresponsive, Mama?”

“You mean, ‘responsible’.”

“Agreed. That’s important, too.”

“Watch your brother, Albus,” Ma commands. And Albus gulps and nods. She grins at him.

Lily’s perched on Dad’s shoulders. Dad’s tried to pull that sort of thing with all three of them, one after the other, but when it was Albus’s turn, he refused once he was old enough to figure out his height’s moved drastically.

“You’re going to love it,” James is telling him, hands waving like there’s bloody magic in front of him. On his cart, his owl, _Goyang-i,_  chirps with him. He lowers his voice. “You’ll _love it._ More than life its-very-self. Well, if you don’t, then I’ll make you. There’s just so _much_. You’ll have so many friends. Well, you’ll be in Gryffindor, for sure — if you’re not I’ll blow my lid and I’ll never speak to you again — and you’ll have a blast. D.A.D.A. is the best class. And Herbology. And Charms. And Divination, honestly, since it’s just wild. And it’s also just wild being away from Mama and Dad for so long. Offense _intended_. Not intended. Save Christmas, when we go back. And whenever.” Is he breathing? “They tell you not to go into the Forbidden Forest, because it’s forbidden, but that doesn’t mean anything. The dances are monitored, so you feel like you’re in a bloody zoo. And we haven’t been able to find it yet, but there may be a hidden swimming pool somewhere —”

This is too much at once. Albus is nearly knocked over. “Dad,” he says. “He’s going off, and there’s no end in sight.”

“James,” their dad says, “give it a rest.”

So James rolls his eyes. and bobs his head. Idiot. “I only said _one thing_. Why should I… fine. _Fine,_ Dad.”

Ma smiles and shakes her head. Albus looks up at her.

“You’ll write to me, won’t you?” he asks, feeling small. James’s blatherings must be getting to his head.

“Albie, we’ll be writing you every day, and you know it,” Ma says.

He shakes it all off. “What about weekends?” There’s the pinch of joke in them. “Don’t we just get letters back once a month?” That’s what James told him. But he’d eat a rotted rat before he’d say he believed James about anything.

Dad shakes his head. “No, we wrote to your brother every day last year. Not to say he replied every time.” James grins, rightfully accused.

“Were you dead?” Ma says, ruffling James’s head. He ducks without dodging. “Not even a single note back?”

“I say we go now,” James laughs, ducking.

Now Albus doesn’t know what to do much.

“All you have to do,” says Ma. “is walk through those platforms. It’s muscle memory. Don’t get too shy.” He nods, despite himself.

“ _Zong suan_ ,” says Lily. “I mean, bloody finally,” she says for their father, almost bashfully.

Dad’s baffled. “Lily!” _Is that what it means?_ he must be thinking.

James looks proud. “Don’t bloody say bloody in front of him.”

And Albus can’t bloody stand the delay.

Then Dad looks over at him. “Don’t stop and you’ll crash into it. That’s very important, all right? Best to do it at a run if you’re nervous.” As if he’s never walked into a wall before.

“Okay,” Albus says.

They run into the threshold, Albus thinks he’s gotten stuck in it. Though that’s only for a second.

* * *

They visited Nainai and Yeye in Chinatown during the summer. When they crossed the threshold that time, James had thrown Albus into it, and Lily had clung to his back. (Though she’s too bloody old and too bloody heavy to be carried around.) 

Ma scolded them all, and they boarded the train. It was red, with golden patterns that seemed to fly on their own.

First they walked through the marketplace. Lanterns floated in midair, leaving sparks of light as they swayed. Some wizards carried wands, and others didn’t. Gilded statues moved to welcome newcomers. Smirking devils taunted the ancestor ghosts. Albus thinks he saw a woman with tattoos strolling down her arm — he might have seen another transform into a fox. Rickshaw cyclists pedaled through the sky, avoiding flocks of _feng-huang_ and owl-messengers. A bright blue Panlong in a cage caught Lily's eye — a vendor was boasting his wares, and she had been caught in the bravados. James wanted to keep the prancing _zhe zhi_ creatures they had found at a stand. And Albus wanted his four-pillar fortune read (or maybe he had wanted food. The food is so, so _good_ ).

Obviously, Ma said no (to everything. She wanted to hurry to Nainai’s — souvenirs would come later, she argued. But they didn’t get anything grand.)

Nainai and Yeye were Ma’s grandparents on her father’s side. Yeye was tall and kind — he did all the cooking. Nainai was tiny, and a smoker. Everyone seemed at least slightly frightened by her. (“ _Wo zai yi qian qiang da mo nu_ ,” was her explanation. Albus doesn’t have the courage to doubt it.) The pair of them only ever spoke Mandarin, unless Dad was somewhere in the room.

Albus might say that he likes them, but he doesn’t know much about them but the surface level. 

They were greeted cozily. Albus remembered to take his shoes off at the door. 

“Where are you going to school,  _Wai Sun_?” Nainai asked him after lunch. (Yeye Made something like eight-treasure rice.) “Kunlun Middle School Eight? Or the one at Jade Mountain. All the good schools are in China.” Blue-hued smoke filled the room with images. Nainai’s long, bronze pipe drew images of square buildings with curved roofs. Albus vaguely recalls that he thought it was beautiful.

* * *

“Everyone’s staring at me again.” Oh. Right. Albus is a Potter. (And bloody — He’s gone on saying things without realizing it.) 

“Because of me!” Uncle Ron reassures him. “I’m extremely famous. My nose experiments are _legendary_.”

“They’re certainly something,” says Auntie Hermione. Albus figures he didn’t catch the joke.

“Parked just fine, then?” Dad asks Uncle Ron.

“Naturally. Hermione didn’t believe I could pass a Muggle driving test. Did you? She’d really thought I had to Confund the examiner.”

They banter something aimless. Albus wonders if he’ll ever get this sort of thing with people that aren’t James. That aren’t Lily. Maybe less with Lily. (Maybe not at all with Lily.)

The more he thinks about it, the more Albus knows that he’s not going to get an adventure. He’s not going to have the time of his bloody life. He doesn’t think he _wants_ to. The only reason he’d want to is that everybody else wants him to. There’s almost hands everywhere around him — reaching and pointing and beckoning, each with different rings and chains. He doesn’t know which one to take, and which one to follow.

Bloody. His nails are stabbing into himself. He doesn’t think he’s getting himself much.

Dad looks inquisitive. “Hey. You all right, son?” He doesn’t give Albus time to reply. “Hogwarts will be the making of you, Albus. I promise you, there is nothing to be frightened of there.” He never seems out-of-place.

James materializes like dust beside them. “Apart from the Thestrals. And Lakshmi Reddy, she’s a _killer_ Chaser. Who’s not afraid of that girl? And the Whomping Willow. But it’s gone tamer lately. And Headmistress McGonagall. And Mama, of course. Dad, too, to an extent. A pretty far one, actually. If you slip up you’ll get a Howler. It’ll be in Korean. Maybe you should fear _me._ Older brothers are horrific. I think they got rid of Dementors but Katie and I found out that they didn’t... and —”

James always seemed so _happy_ , every time he left. So happy that he didn’t have a care. Albus thought he’d be the same.

“ _Don’t_ listen to James,” Dad advises. “Listen to your mother, and to your professors, and remember to enjoy yourself. You’ll have no problems at Hogwarts. Even when I did, it never felt that way. Now, if you don’t want this train to leave without you, you should go ahead and leap on…”

“ _Wo yao qu huo che yu_ ,” says Lily, gesturing towards the train’s wheels.

“ _Ni bu hui,”_ says Ma. “What if you get snatched away?”

“See, look, over there. There’s Auntie Ginny and Auntie Luna. I’ll say hi.”

She makes a face. “All right.” Albus is half here, and half away. “ _Ni hui lai._ We’ll go with you, and we’ll all say hi.”

Auntie Hermione waves. “Rose. Remember to send Neville our love!”

“I can’t send a professor love!”

And then Rose sticks her tongue out, and leaves for the train. She doesn’t wait.

Albus starts walking.

James grabs his shoulder. “Hold on, hold on! Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Oh. Yes. Yeah, right.

He turns, and hugs Dad, then Ma. “ _Yi hui er jian,”_ he tells them both, chewing every word. James echoes him without the extra spittle. Maybe Albus meant mostly Ma. Maybe not at all.

“ _Zai jian,_ ” says Dad. He’s getting slightly better at it. (Slightly.) It makes Ma laugh with good nature.

“Sounds about right, Dad,” James shouts. He punches Albus’s arm. “Let’s get going, shall we, Albie? Rose is already ahead of us.”

“Okay, then.” They go. It’ll be a long time until they return.

* * *

“The first thing you do, Albie, is assert your dominance. I say you take the left flank of this hallway, and I’ll take right. Dad’s favorite spell was _Expelliarmus,_ so we’ll take our chances with that first. Catch these bastards off-rhythm. It’s a life sentence for Unforgivable Curses, but we’re young yet, and we can blame it on that. _Wo men shuang qin hui ji bi wo men dan sui shuo_ ,” he adds at a whisper. Well. Obviously. But Albus will kill him first, to get him quiet.

“But on second thought, my mates are over in a box far off. I’m going to run off. Unless you’d want me to stay with you. Then I will. For sure.”

He’s tempted. But — “ _Wo… hen —_ uh _, hao. Xie xie.”_  He half says it to sound impressive. But his voice is too stilted for anything that good.

“Nice on. I’ll see you in a fat minute.” James is off to the races.

And then Rose links her arm with Albus’s. “Hey, Albie.”

“Hi, Rose.”

“ _Joeun achimieyo._ ”

“Uh, um, _museun ir-iya?_ ” How in bloody hell and back did he remember that? Lily and James are better than him at Korean. They speak it whenever they’re throwing tosh about him, and they like Halmi and Halbeogi more than Nainai and Yeye. “Rose, you probably know more Korean than me.”

“It’s good to get practice, though. Am I right? Anyway. We need to concentrate?”

“What for?”

“My mum and dad met your dad on their first Hogwarts Express ride.”

“That’s got nothing to do with us.”

“ _Au contraire._  We’re picking friends. We’re shaking hands and making blood-oaths, on the spot, on this very day. Our choices now will alter the course of our futures.”

“That’s awfully dramatic.”

“It’s loads more fun that way. Now, come on. I want to meet everyone there is to meet. I want to meet the trolley witch, too.”

Albus figures it’ll take a while. “This door all right?”

“Let’s find it out.” They open the box. “Oh. Oof. It’s empty. Let’s go, Albie.”

There’s a boy in here. “Wait.” The boy is sitting in the far corner of box. When he sees the two of them, he smiles, something wavering and upset, as if he was very surprised that he wasn’t alone on the train.

“Oh, Merlin. Merlin, Merlin. Sorry about that. Hello, there. I’m Rose. Is the box free?”

“It’s free,” says Scorpius. “It’s just me. Hi, Rose.”

“ _Museun ir-iya._ This is Albie.”

“Albus,” Albus says, for some reason. “Albie. That’s my name.”

“Hi, Scorpius. I mean, I’m Scorpius. You’re Albus, and I’m Scorpius. That’s Rose.” She and Albus are still standing outside of the box. “Would you come like some of my Fizzing Whizbees?”

“You know, Scorpius?” says Rose. “I think I like Tsue-Tsue dips more myself, but I’ll grab your offer later.” Rose un-links from Albus.

“I don’t have those,” Scorpius lets them know, “but I’ve also got some Infinite Fruit-strips, and Every-Flavor Beans, and Sugar Fish. It’s my mum’s idea — she says, ‘Sweets, sweets, they always help you make friends.’” He sings it in a high-pitched voice. Albus is embarrassed for him, but it’s rather funny. Very funny. “Stupid idea, probably.”

“No, not at all,” says Albus, “my ma says the same thing.” Rose enters the box, and Albus follows. He digs into his pocket and finds a tiny fabric bag. He got it from Auntie Hermione on his Hundredth-Day party, apparently. Whatever for, he’ll never be sure. “I’ve got, um. Let me dig in this. “Moo Moo Malang Candy — the strawberry flavor at least. I’ve got some Tsue-Tsue for you, Rose. But it’s the vanilla kind. Oh, wait, here’s chocolate. I have some Nakweon Banana Kicks. Octo-Grape Candy.” He looks up. “We can share.” Now Albus has gotten himself ashamed with no good explanation. He’s overdone it.

“Brilliant, then.”

Albus sits next to Scorpius. (His hair is very bright. So bright that it blinds. So bright it might replace the sun.) Rose sits across from them. “Here’s your Tsue-Tsue, Rose.”

“Wonderful.”

“What would you like, Scorpius?”

He mulls it over. Scorpius glances at Albus, then glances back at his hands. Albus feels his face turning red. “What about the, um…”

“The Moo Moo one? Yes. Yeah.” He unwraps a pair of candies. The soft, pink cows are pacing on his fingers. There’s six of them — he looks at Scorpius, and makes a sort of bridge with his hands. The cows cross over by Scorpius’s arm, and they collide with each other, combining into three jelly-bright squares. Ma could always get them to prance and graze. Though they couldn’t _really_ prance and graze, and they get too filthy to eat every once in a whole.

Rose giggles. “Those taste as good as they look,” she says. She takes a stick out of her Tsun-Tsun container — letters, and a picture of a rooster, print into the air in front of her. (Lily likes the Tsun-Tsun, too.)  

“I’ve never seen these before,” Scorpius says. “Well. Here. Albus. Have a bean.” Albus takes a bean. It’s toffee. Or caramel. He can never tell.

Now it’s gone very quiet. Albus feels tense and welcome at the same time, and he can’t be sure what to make of it.

“Thank you,” Scorpius mumbles.

Albus gives him a Banana Kick. It starts jumping. “Anything for a bean.” It’s not going to be for life, is it? What’s he going to do until then?

Again comes the silence.

“You’re a Potter, right?” asks Scorpius. “And you’re a Weasley. A Granger. I mean, a Granger-Weasley.”

“That’s right,” Rose says. “You’re a Malfoy. I could tell by the hair. And your shoes look very expensive. I mean, they’re nice, is all.”

“You can have them.” He looks as if he regrets the words as soon as they’ve escaped. 

“No. Well. No. I’d rather take sweets.”

“Sorry.”

They laugh. It’s a sound that stays bouncing in the compartment.

Maybe this isn’t quiet at all. It doesn’t settle the way quiet does, and it doesn’t stick.

“I’ll come back,” says Rose. She leaves. Albus and Scorpius eat all their candy.

She doesn’t come back, but Albus isn’t too concerned.

* * *

He walks the length of the Great Hall with all the rest of the first-years — and he’s surprised that the candles aren’t dripping. There are chairs waiting for him at the end of it. James told him there wouldn’t be any chairs — and James is screaming at him. “Albie! _Albie!”_ His friends scream along with him.

“Shut up,” he yells back, the noise trapped in his throat.

“ _Cong wei, chun huo!”_

“You’re the — blockhead here,” Albus says. But the first-years have walked too quickly for James to hear.

“Albus _Potter._ ” Albus turns around. A girl he’s never met before puts her hand over her mouth.

The boy she’s talking to hadn’t realized that Albus noticed them. “A Potter. In our year. Isn’t that bloody wild?”

“Doesn’t have glasses,” says one at a whisper. “But his face is a tad bit same.”

“He’s got his hair,” says another. “Well, it’s a bit like his mother’s. But the magic’s running through him.”

“You’re so strange, Yann.”

“And he’s _my_ cousin,” Rose says loudly. She taps her hand on top of Albus’s head. “A small bit.”

“Everyone’s my cousin,” says Albus, muttering. The other boys and girls hush their voices. “Everyone’s my auntie, and my uncle.” Ma just likes that custom — so does Dad. That’s just how it is.

They’ve stopped walking. The Headmistress holds the Sorting Hat. There’s a list, and it is so long it seems to trail and drip onto the floor. Thank Merlin for the bloody chairs. He’s going to fall asleep, maybe.

But James told him they’ve stopped calling the names in alphabetical order.

The Sorting Hat sings on cue.

“In Wizardry, I’m greatest

The tool you can’t withdraw.

You never can replace me

The Sorting Hat you call.

E’en with age I’m timeless

I hold your dreams and doubt.

I’ll give your House and kindness

Which you cannot go without…

_Rosaline Beatrice Granger-Weasley!”_

Rose takes center stage — when she catches Albus’s eye, she sticks the tip of her tongue out at him.

“ _Gryffindor!”_

There’s a rumbling cheer. Bloody half of it must be from James.

Rose is triumphant, and goes to join her House.

The Sorting Hat makes its cries.

“Jerry Reyes Matapang!

“Sithembile Hortensius Lieberenz!

“Kalyan Aditya Davis!

“ _Gryffindor!_

“ _Ravenclaw!_

“ _Hufflepuff!”_

Endless celebration. It’s like the New Year. The Sorting Hat calls name after name — “Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy!” A moment of effect, Albus guesses. “ _Slytherin!_ ”

No one is shaken. No one is relieved. When a name is called, a place is taken. When a House is said, it is accepted without question. Why isn’t anyone overjoyed? Why isn’t anyone disappointed? It’s almost as if everyone has been told where they belonged years beforehand.

He didn’t get the reminder.

“Albus Biming Potter!”

He goes where he’s supposed to.

What is he doing here? Is this really going to be the making of him? He wishes he had the courage enough. He wishes he had the mind enough. He wishes he had the heart enough. What’s it like? What’s it like being his father, and his mother, and his brother? What’s it like to fit exactly where he’s been told?

What’s it like being enough?

Albus thinks that must be it. He wants to be enough. He wants it settled like paintings made in smoke. He’s never been enough and he knows it. He should have had it made out by now.

“ _Slytherin!_ ”

There’s the sound of murmured voice.

“Oh.”

“That’s — all right, I guess. Whatever.”

“Not at all the same face. Hair, too.”

“The mum’s a Ravenclaw, so that’s all right.”

This was not what was they thought it would be.

He sees Rose among the Gryffindors — she’s picking at her nails.

He sees James on the other side of the table — he shrugs. There’s still a smile on his face, and it’s wrinkled.

There is scattered applause.

The Sorting Hat is removed from Albus’s head, and the ceremony proceeds.

Where’s he supposed to go now? He figured that afterwards, he’d stick with James. 

Oh. There’s Scorpius.

He makes room for Albus to sit with him.

* * *

“I wish that I hadn’t been sorted into Ravenclaw,” Ma said, at some point. “Well, not really. I just wish there wasn’t much fuss over Housing. I’m glad I met friends that thought the way I did, and competition’s good for you.

“But since I was a Ravenclaw… was that all I was? Wise and — quick? Did that mean I wasn’t loyal, or ambitious, or brave? Did that mean I could never be anything but what a hat told me I was going to be? What about your dad? He’s wise, and he’s loyal, and he’s ambitious, and he’s brave.” Albus’s parents were bloody planted into the foundations of their school. They were so deeply rooted that they couldn’t get past anything else. “ _Wo bie ren shi._ I don’t know. But it’s made me all I am.” Ma gets philosophical like this. “We changed a lot when we went to school, your dad and I.” And she brushed his hair back. He probably decided not to resist. “You’re young yet, Albie. But give a moment or two.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**  
>   
> 
> Mandarin:
> 
>  _Yan._ 魇. — Nightmares. 
> 
> _Wo ai ni._ 我爱你. — I love you. 
> 
> _Qu ni de tou yu ni de p gu._ 去你的头于你的屁股. — Get your head out of your bottom. 
> 
> _Wo zai yi qian qiang da mo nu. 我在以前强大魔女._ — I was once a very powerful witch. 
> 
> _Wai Sun._ 外孙. — Grandson/daughter’s son.
> 
>  _Ni hui xuexi. 你会学习._ — You will learn. 
> 
> _Zhe zhi. 折纸._ — Origami/paper folding. 
> 
> _Wo yao qu huo che yu. 我 要 去追火车于._ — I’m going to chase the train out. 
> 
> _Ni bu hui. 你不会._ — You will not.
> 
>  _Ni hui lai. 你回来._ — Come straight back. 
> 
> _Yi hui er jian. 会儿见._ — See you in a while. 
> 
> _Zai jian. 再见._ — Good-bye. 
> 
> _Wo men shuang qin hui ji bi wo men dan sui sho. 我们双亲会击毙我们虽说._ — Our parents would kill us dead, though. 
> 
> _Wo hen hao. Xie xie. 我很好. 谢谢._ — I’m all right. Thanks. 
> 
> _Cong wei, chun huo! 从未蠢货!_ — Not in a million years, dumbass!
> 
>  _Wo bie ren shi. 我别只认识._ — I don’t know. 
> 
>  
> 
> Korean:
> 
>  _Halmi/Halmeoni. 할머니._ — Grandmother. 
> 
> _Goyang-i. 고양이._ — Pussycat. 
> 
> _Joeun achimieyo. 좋은아침이에요._ — Good morning. 
> 
> _Museun ir-iya? 무슨 일이야?_ — How’s it going?
> 
>  _Halabeoji. 할아버지._ — Grandfather.  
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks again for reading the first chapter!
> 
> This was birthed from me talking about why Cho Chang was named Cho Chang with some bros (Cho is a Korean surname, and Chang is a Chinese surname??? Done Goofed and okay that’s okay JK) 
> 
> It’s been a hot minute but I still feel that The Cursed Child just had to chill a little bit. Just a bit
> 
> So here I am, my dudes! More to come.  
>  
> 
> stalk me if you want (and ask me a lot of invasive questions too!)
> 
> [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/zsazsamendoza) | [instagram ](https://www.instagram.com/kaulayau/) | [tumblr ](https://kaulayau.tumblr.com)


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